let's return to erotic poetry!
- Thread starter Croissant
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Lauren Hynde
Hitched
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I tried starting a debate on this some months ago, but didn't work.
We've been getting a lot more non-erotic new poems than erotic ones, lately. What does this tendency mean for the authors? Considering the nature of this site, are we giving the readers what they want? More importantly, perhaps, are we missing a chance to push our poetry further that we're allowed in most poetry forums?
"Pornography is the most political form of literature, dealing with how we use and exploit each other, in the most urgent and ruthless way."
We've been getting a lot more non-erotic new poems than erotic ones, lately. What does this tendency mean for the authors? Considering the nature of this site, are we giving the readers what they want? More importantly, perhaps, are we missing a chance to push our poetry further that we're allowed in most poetry forums?
"Pornography is the most political form of literature, dealing with how we use and exploit each other, in the most urgent and ruthless way."
Angeline
Poet Chick
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Your points are well taken, Lauren, but at least for me a constant stream of graphic erotic poetry just isn't that interesting. Also, while I write for readers, my choice of what to write about is what interests me.
And one last point--a poem doesn't need to be graphic to have erotic overtones. One need look no further than the poems of Neruda to see this. I've been told many times that my poetry in general has a sensual tone, and I agree, though it's not something I try for, but rather just the way I write. For me anyway, poetry (or any writing) that is sensual in voice or tone is erotic in essence, and therefore sexier than all the "pussy" poems in the world. Erotic is pretty subjective, I guess.
And one last point--a poem doesn't need to be graphic to have erotic overtones. One need look no further than the poems of Neruda to see this. I've been told many times that my poetry in general has a sensual tone, and I agree, though it's not something I try for, but rather just the way I write. For me anyway, poetry (or any writing) that is sensual in voice or tone is erotic in essence, and therefore sexier than all the "pussy" poems in the world. Erotic is pretty subjective, I guess.
Lauren Hynde
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Re: The Pussy Poems series we're all thinking about, there's no redeeming subjectivity. One can say pussy and cock all one wants, it doesn't make it any more erotic. 
WickedEve
save an apple, eat eve
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Pussy CockLauren.Hynde said:Re: The Pussy Poems series we're all thinking about, there's no redeeming subjectivity. One can say pussy and cock all one wants, it doesn't make it any more erotic.
Pussy Cock
Pussy Cock
Ah, that was fun.
Croissant, do you save all your email poetry? Start posting!
Who killed Cock Pussy?
“Me,” boasted the wussie,
“And my firend, Bela Lugosi!”
Who strangled Pussy Cock?
Wussie climbed into the dock
(Which he insisted someone lock.)
“I strangled Pussy Cock
From a profound desire to shock.
And I beat off into my sock!!!!”
. . . . Meanwhile . . . .
In the shadows of the court
Where once Lawrence and Joyce fought
A gutteral suction could he heard
Which rendered further words absurd
For Cock Pussy and Pussy Cock
Deep in each others lust were locked
And there they groaned and bucked and fucked and fucked and fucked . . . .
“Me,” boasted the wussie,
“And my firend, Bela Lugosi!”
Who strangled Pussy Cock?
Wussie climbed into the dock
(Which he insisted someone lock.)
“I strangled Pussy Cock
From a profound desire to shock.
And I beat off into my sock!!!!”
. . . . Meanwhile . . . .
In the shadows of the court
Where once Lawrence and Joyce fought
A gutteral suction could he heard
Which rendered further words absurd
For Cock Pussy and Pussy Cock
Deep in each others lust were locked
And there they groaned and bucked and fucked and fucked and fucked . . . .
JUDO
Flasher
- Joined
- May 1, 2001
- Posts
- 2,240
Nasty, nasty, nasty...
Misery Loves Cock
Miserable Cocteau imbibed
Lurid cocktails as the tumblers
Clicked the clock closer one tick.
Her thoughts ran the gamut,
And the alcohol fanned the flames
Of suicide's depression to smolder.
From a dark bedside box,
Clicked a chamber so small
That indiscretion was cocked too late.
Painted nails raked the barrel.
Blue metalled steel shone the light
Whispered so low and told her.
One for the road in vain
Quelled the rising dot so feared
As the end drew nearer her fate.
Her thumb cocked to click.
Red eyes screwed to cloak, but
Cocteau pussied out too quick.
Misery Loves Cock
Miserable Cocteau imbibed
Lurid cocktails as the tumblers
Clicked the clock closer one tick.
Her thoughts ran the gamut,
And the alcohol fanned the flames
Of suicide's depression to smolder.
From a dark bedside box,
Clicked a chamber so small
That indiscretion was cocked too late.
Painted nails raked the barrel.
Blue metalled steel shone the light
Whispered so low and told her.
One for the road in vain
Quelled the rising dot so feared
As the end drew nearer her fate.
Her thumb cocked to click.
Red eyes screwed to cloak, but
Cocteau pussied out too quick.
TwistaFate
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 14, 2002
- Posts
- 305
Erotic poetry
Laying back underneath the midnight blue sky
as two lovers engage in intimacy as people pass by
unaware of what is taking place only a few feet away
the dealings of lovers out for a night of play
his hands grip her tightly as he drives deep inside
the swell of emotions he can never again hide
moans escape her lips as his hands squeeze her ample breast
a scream leaps from his throat as she rakes his chest
her nails digging deep into flesh, blood trickles down
she lovingly laps it up, not a drop hits the ground
deeper they sink into the abyss of erotic bliss
every moment without love is a moment missed
not for these two lovers out for a night play
not caring that there are people only a few feet away
scream for me lover as he thrust deeper and deeper
the pitch of her voice could wake the deepest sleeper
grinding hard against her flesh, they seem they could melt
into each other was the feeling he felt
his voice becomes ragged, his breath fast and rough
of this woman beside him, he could never get enough
his back arches slightly, his head thrown in the air
their eyes connect as they both begin to stare
this moment was well waited for, so far from their reach
as both climax in an orgasmic eruption as they both reach their peak
collasping in her arms, his body frail without any strength
never have they made love for this duration, this length
deep beneath the midnight blue sky they lay
promising each other again someday....
Laying back underneath the midnight blue sky
as two lovers engage in intimacy as people pass by
unaware of what is taking place only a few feet away
the dealings of lovers out for a night of play
his hands grip her tightly as he drives deep inside
the swell of emotions he can never again hide
moans escape her lips as his hands squeeze her ample breast
a scream leaps from his throat as she rakes his chest
her nails digging deep into flesh, blood trickles down
she lovingly laps it up, not a drop hits the ground
deeper they sink into the abyss of erotic bliss
every moment without love is a moment missed
not for these two lovers out for a night play
not caring that there are people only a few feet away
scream for me lover as he thrust deeper and deeper
the pitch of her voice could wake the deepest sleeper
grinding hard against her flesh, they seem they could melt
into each other was the feeling he felt
his voice becomes ragged, his breath fast and rough
of this woman beside him, he could never get enough
his back arches slightly, his head thrown in the air
their eyes connect as they both begin to stare
this moment was well waited for, so far from their reach
as both climax in an orgasmic eruption as they both reach their peak
collasping in her arms, his body frail without any strength
never have they made love for this duration, this length
deep beneath the midnight blue sky they lay
promising each other again someday....
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